With a world brimming
I have to reach for
Nothing at all
that kind of love
not in surround sound
or burning love whirls
wild.
This hurt or sort
to find out
in the hand of
burning love
on a burning bush
all to fall into
strangles the
root of all
holes.
Hold on yea!
for love must arrive
in a can
as like soup
give me that broth
no brothel
Oh no! love shall come.
i am ready for nothing!
this is greeeat!